


Black Mambo

by Nekositting



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Brief Mentions of Mutilation, Choking, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Beta Read, Researcher Hermione Granger, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 18:18:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekositting/pseuds/Nekositting
Summary: She sprung from where her legs had been rooted on the floor, running to the door at the end of the room. She pounded on its surface, blood rushing up to her ears.The door refused to move.“Open the god damn door,” she shouted, hysteria making her words crack at the end, but still, the guard outside refused to open the door for her.Was he even still out there?“They won’t come for you, you know.”





	Black Mambo

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I wrote this last night. I don't know what I was thinking, but I was struck with this urge to write a creature fic, and now, here you have it. I didn't realize it'd gotten as long as it did until the end. Enjoy! 
> 
> This was not beta-read, so expect typos and weird writing shenanigans.

A chair screeched in the room, but Hermione didn’t flinch. No harm would come to her here. Not when there were guards pressed alongside the walls of the perimeter, taking care to watch the resident held within its walls. 

Hermione slung her leg over the other, crossing it at the knee, from underneath the table. Her eyes did not shift from the figure sitting at the center of the room, buried behind impact-glass and two feet of concrete. 

It was a bit of overkill, in her honest opinion. But she could understand their concerns. There was no telling what the creature was capable of, after all.

Especially when it had somehow killed two orderlies in the span of 48 hours.

“Hermione—”

Her gaze did not waver from the hunched figure behind the glass, scrutinizing it for any sign of understanding— _awareness_ —of where it was. It didn’t so much as flinch when another chair was yanked back, the wood screeching against the floor to stop at Hermione’s side.  
  
A redheaded man sat to her right, but Hermione didn’t look at him. It wasn’t necessary. She knew who he was and knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“Any ideas what this could be?”

There was a brief pause where Hermione said nothing, tracing the bumps in the creature’s spine, before she sighed. 

“I’ve no bloody idea, Ronald.”

With a purse of her lips, she reached for her notepad and pen, dragging it onto her lap to write down precisely what she was seeing. This creature had similar features to that of a snake, but—

Brow furrowing, Hermione’s breath caught when it turned its head and a humanoid face stared back. Its eyes were a deep red, and even from where Hermione sat in her seat—which was  _not_  a short distance by any means—, it was not difficult to tell that it was noseless and hairless. 

it had all the trappings of a human male, but its face was deformed. Its naked body was littered with snake scales that flashed and twinkled beneath the fluorescent lights of the cell. 

The creature's eyes stared at them through the glass, and Hermione’s hold on her pen weakened, unnerved at the way it cocked its head. It was almost as if it could see them, but no—

That was silly. Anyone on Hermione’s side could see into the room, but there was no possibility that it could stare back. The glass they used was of the special variety. The same kind that officers used in their precincts when conducting an interrogation.

_Calm down, Granger._

“I’ll have to run some tests. Maybe get a closer loo—”

“Absolutely not. You’re not going in there when that thing has already killed two people, ‘Mione.”

Hermione’s lip twitched before she whipped around on Ron, startling the poor bastard enough that he fell off the chair and onto his arse.

_Serves him right._

“Don’t start with me, Ronald. I have a bloody job to do. I’m all this damn facility has got.”

Ron grumbled, the chair screeching beneath his weight when he propped all of his weight on it to get up. He threw a sour expression in her direction, knowing better than to argue with her on this. He knew she was right. 

She was all they had until they can fly in more researchers. The few that hadn’t run with their tails tucked between their legs at the discovery of this creature, had outright refused to go near the thing. After the whole fiasco with the orderlies, it was in her best interest to follow their lead—

And yet—

Hermione began writing again, now noting down the way the creature cocked its head, its lipless mouth twisting into a parody of a smile. It raised the hackles in Hermione’s spine, but she didn’t dare look away, didn’t stop writing. 

How could she stop when a real-life, flesh and blood alien was sitting just several layers of concrete away from her? This was the opportunity of a lifetime even if it was dangerous. 

“Fine. But I don’t have to like it,” Ron shot, tearing her thoughts away from the creature. She tried not to scowl, shifting her attention back to her ex-boyfriend. “Just be careful. People have died, ‘Mione.”

The frustration bubbling in her chest melted at the genuine look of concern in his periwinkle blue eyes. They may have ended things in less than stellar terms, what with him losing his patience and her losing her temper, but she knew that he still cared. She did too, even if half the time she wanted to strangle him for hindering her work.

“I will, Ron. Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

Ron's shoulders relaxed at her words, the color on his cheeks quickly returning.

 _Huh_.

Hermione didn’t know when he’d gone pale. It wasn’t a surprise, but still, that was a rather extreme reaction nevertheless. One would think the monster was out of its cage, bearing its teeth straight at him. 

“Now then, if you’ll excuse me. I have a specimen to examine.”

Ron swallowed at that, what little color he  _had_ regained, vanishing almost instantly. Hermione tried not to roll her eyes, a snarky remark sitting right on the tip of her tongue.

_Honestly._

You would think she’d never observed a dangerous predator before.

* * *

 After days of arguing with the heads of the department, Hermione was finally given the opportunity to inspect the creature in person. 

She was positively glowing with pride, with  _joy_ , at the idea. No more did she have to sit behind the glass of the interrogation room, tucked away in the dark to catch a sight of its body slinking in the dark. 

Now she could come closer, could press up to the glass and watch the way its ribcage contracted with each breath it took. 

Ron had not been thrilled, having gone against her back to the heads to complain about the ‘suicidal’ decisions by Dr. Granger.

But no more. She had won her case when the alien had killed no more guards, remaining docile and well-behaved behind the glass after weeks of observation. 

Anticipation curled in her stomach, a literal pep in her step when she got out of that hour-long interrogation. 

Nothing would keep her away from this discovery. Not Ron, and most certainly  _not_ the department heads.

* * *

 

Hermione tried not to scowl at the fleet of armed men flanking her, her hold on her equipment and notes giving her no time at all to smack the lot of them in the back of the head.

She was more than aware that the creature was dangerous, but  _Christ_ , did they have to send half of the bloody army to guard her on the way there? She guessed that there were at least twenty of them, and that was being  _kind_.

The only perk to all this was that she didn’t have to open any of the doors, what with her hands being otherwise occupied and all. But still, she walked with the echoes of their footsteps at her back, her annoyance mounting with each time she had to wait for the group to decide who would open the door next.

The relief when they finally reached their destination was almost palpable. Even if that relief was short-lived when the guards began to squabble in earnest now, no one wanting to be the first to open the door and scope the lab.

“Beckham already we—”

“Alright, enough of that,” Hermione snapped, shoving past two arguing guards while the rest of them hung back. Hermione tried not to roll her eyes at the way they squirmed where they stood, some even glancing mournfully down the hallway. You would think she was sentencing them to  _death_. It wasn’t like they had to get up and personal with the fucking alien.

“Just open the godforsaken door and let me through. I don’t have all bloody day.”

They were quick to comply, swiping their key card before Hermione could swing the cases in her arms. They knew she would, more than aware of just how easily she lost her temper when tested. Her and Ron’s tumultuous relationship was more than evidence of that fact.

“Thank you,” Hermione said before trekking into the room, an army of guards in tow. 

The icy chill of the room greeted her from the moment she took her first step into the room. It burrowed into the meat of her hands, curling through her white coat and the sweater she wore underneath.

With a shudder, Hermione ambled deeper into the room, eyeing the glass window that gave her a complete view of the creature’s prison from a whole new angle. The glass was just as fortified as the one at the opposite end of the building, but—

Something about being in this room, in particular, made things more intimate. Smaller and nestled. Almost like a nursery save for the fact that this room was not decorated with bright and cheerful colors nor adorned with comfortable furniture. 

“You lot handle the controls. I’ll need to get a closer look if I am going to decipher just what sort of creature this is.”

There were some murmurs in the room, nervous and restless, but neither one chimed in to refuse her command. Several men made a beeline for the controls, already hard at work to get the second cage lowered. 

“I’m going to ask that you all be prepared for  _anything_. And I do mean anything. If something goes wrong in there, and I am still inside, you know what the protocol is.” 

No one said a thing, even when Hermione’s eyes stared each of them in the eye, letting them all know that she  _wasn’t_  afraid. If shite hit the fan, she would be left in the room with no means of escape. It would be unsafe for the general public to have this creature unleashed. 

Hermione was more than willing to sacrifice her life if it meant keeping that thing away from the outside world.

“Dr. Granger.”

Hermione spun around on her heel, dropping her equipment onto the floor. It was one of the men—Marcus? Hermione wasn’t sure, there were so damned many of them—she’d ordered to manage the controls who had spoken.

“It’s ready. The creature has been contained.”

Hermione nodded, satisfied. 

“Alright then, boys,” Hermione hefted her things once again and took a step toward the door separating her from the creature lying in wait. “Let’s get to work.”

* * *

 

The days of observing the creature bled into one another, and Hermione hardly minded. 

This was what she wanted. How could she complain when every morning she had the chance to observe a live alien and make observations about the creature? 

No one else had been given this privilege. No one else was brave enough, had the nerve to sit back on a tiny metal chair and write down notes about the smallest detail. 

She knew more about the creature than even the military that had found it, and that was something that made her heart swell with pride, that made her toes curl with pure delight. 

This was her discovery, her  _mission._ No one else would be nearly as humane, as kind as she was being to a creature that had murdered two men the moment it had arrived at the facility. 

“Did you miss me?” Hermione asked when she entered the room, ignoring the worried glances from the guards standing by the doorway as she took her seat.

They thought her mad for talking to it. 

Hermione didn’t care for it, for  _any_ of their opinions. She refused to treat the alien like it wasn’t a living, breathing  _thing_. It deserved her kindness. To be spoken to, to be treated with as much respect as she could without arousing suspicion and discomfort in the people up top.

As much as she wanted to bathe, clothe, and give the alien space to do things in private—even if it didn’t  _seem_ like there was much going on behind its red eyes—Hermione was nothing but ethical.

She refused to test him, to do anything more invasive than watch, than scribble down some notes on the way it behaved when she entered the room, or when others, like Ron, perched up at her side and laid a hand on her shoulder.

* * *

 

Hermione wiped the sweat that had formed on her forehead, her curls escaping the tight bun she’d wrested them into. She’d been in the room for a little over an hour, observing the creature as it circled around in the tiny cage it’d been confined into. 

It was fascinating, really. Watching it move and slink about; it was like watching the coils of a python furl and unfurl. 

Her hand ached from scribbling down onto her clipboard, ink smearing along her thumb and the meat of her palms to get everything she saw down onto paper.

As she had noted previously, the creature  _did_ have all the trappings of a human male. It was shaped like a human man, down to the top of its head and to its feet. Its thighs were thick and its calves thin. The rest of it was muscled, too, littered with scales that were most concentrated on its face and abdomen. 

They were a gorgeous shade of teal, the light catching on scales making it almost gleam blue or even greendepending on the angle. She wanted to touch it, to feel it and learn if it was just like a snake, truly.

But that was for another day. She knew that. There were too many variables, too many dangers to trying to tranquilize it. There was no telling how the creature would react to the use of human barbiturates—it could either end terribly, with the creature having an outright adverse reaction or even worse still, where it  _did_  work, but the creature woke up too soon while she was in its cage. It was too risky to do something that rash now, so—

Hermione watched. For now.

She took in the smooth shape of its head, the red of its irises and the cat-like slits of its eyes. Her eyes missed nothing, noting with excruciating detail even the flap of skin between its legs, furled and wrinkled. It was uncanny, how, even after days of observation, she was still struck by how much its genitals resembled that of a human male’s.

“Dr. Granger.”

Hermione jumped, attention so consumed by the specimen in front of her that she didn’t notice when a guard had stopped beside her. 

Pressing her hand to her chest to stop her heart from crawling up her esophagus, Hermione cast an annoyed glance at the man. He was dark-haired, with eyes such a pale green that they almost glowed. 

Hermione, for the life of her, could not remember his name.

“Yes? Is there something I can help you with?” Hermione asked, masking her irritation as best as she could. There was no need to chew the man out. Lord knows how long she’d been in that room already, starting at the alien’s body. Anyone would be concerned about her mental health.

“We’ve been here for three hours, doctor. We understand how important your work is, but—”

Hermione lifted her hand up and the man stilled in his words instantly. 

“You can relieve yourselves, if that’s what the fuss is all about. I can take care of things from here, as you can see.”

Hermione gestured to the creature safely contained behind a smaller glass cage, as if to prove that she had everything handled. The guard did not look convinced, however.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.”

Hermione groaned, as if pained, her hand coming up to rub against her temples. Had she not made herself clear? She was not leaving. Nothing short of an actual nuclear disaster was getting her off this damned chair.

“I understand the concern, but as you see, there is still much to be done. The specimen has been well behaved—no one else has died save for the two men when we first transported it here. However, if you’re so worried about my wellbeing, you can leave one of your men behind to keep an eye on me.”

The guard opened his mouth as if to argue, but then he clicked it shut. Victory swelled in Hermione’s chest instantly. She had won, could tell in the way the guard lowered his shoulders and his lips pinched.

“Alright. We’ll leave someone outside who will manage the controls while you're still in here. If  _anything_ happens, and I do mean  _anything_ , they will come for you.”

Hermione nodded, eyes already making their way to the specimen that had stopped its pacing in the cell, its eyes now trained on the both of them.

 _Interesting_.

She didn’t look away from it when the man excused himself, the sound of his footsteps disappearing and the door closing announcing his departure. 

A grin spread along her lips, excitement bubbling up her belly. 

_Finally, they were completely alone._

* * *

 

Weeks passed, and Hermione found that the guards had become more amenable to leaving her alone with the creature. 

She was grateful for that, happy to work without the scrutinizing gazes of the guards on her back as she sketched and diagrammed different areas of its body.

Although from a glance, the creature did look human in many ways, that was where their similarities ended. 

When the creature had opened its mouth once, Hermione could not help but shudder at the row of sharp teeth inside. There were rows of them, not one but two, the back of them flat—similar to that of humans in that it mashed up whatever food it ate.

 _But those canines_. 

They were large and sharp enough to cut through meat, to break bone down. She almost wanted to test its jaw strength, to throw in a device that would test just how much strength it had.

She didn’t, though. It was enough to watch it eat, to see it chew and snarl through raw meet with a pearly white bone poking out from the flesh. The fact that it could tear through raw meat that easily, without making a mess of blood and flesh on the floor was telling of how powerful it was.

It was a good thing, indeed, that she was out there, and the creature was in there. 

* * *

 

Hermione had abandoned her chair in the midst of her observations, no longer satisfied with remaining in her seat when she could get a much better view of the way it breathed pressed close to the glass.

The creature had stopped its movements altogether, its eyes looking at her curiously—a hint of something Hermione could not define in its gaze. It was... _amazing_. 

A real-life alien. She couldn’t contain her zeal, walking around the box, and reveling in her excitement with little reservations now that she was no longer under the careful eye of the guards.

The only one that remained was outside of those doors, and Hermione pressed her hands against the glass, eyes wide in wonder when the creature stood on its legs as a man would and placed its hands against the glass where her hands were.

 _Oh my_ —

Hermione was vibrating with energy, unable to tear her eyes away from where their hands were separated from the glass.

“Did you enjoy the view?”

All the air rushed out of her lungs, brows knitting together despite herself. Surely, the creature couldn’t possibly be speaking—

“Oh yes, I most definitely am.”

Hermione backed away from the glass as if burned, shock fueling her movements until she was standing right at the corner of the room. 

The creature had not torn its eyes away from her, a glimmer of amusement and interest gleaming in its inhuman eyes. They were no longer dull with unawareness.

It was intelligent.

Hermione couldn’t quite decide whether to be terrified or awed.

The box was made for an unintelligent specimen. It wouldn’t be able to hold something that could  _think_ outside of eating, killing, and defecating.

“H-how long?” Hermione asked, eyes widening with horror when the creature cocked its head to one side and the glass cracked, splintering into millions of tiny fissures within moments.

 _Oh god_.

“From the very start.”

She sprung from where her legs had been rooted on the floor, running to the door at the end of the room. She pounded on its surface, blood rushing up to her ears.

The door refused to move.

“Open the god damn  _door_ ,” she shouted, hysteria making her words crack at the end, but still, the guard outside refused to open the door for her. 

_Was he even still out there?_

“They won’t come for you, you know.”

Hermione trembled when the crack of glass shattering exploded behind her, shards of it sailing through the air and pelting her with the crystals. She didn’t turn around but continued to pound on the door, her heart lodged in her throat.

_No. No. No._

The mutilated bodies of two men flashed behind her eyes, and Hermione thought she might be sick. She’d been personally there when the autopsy had been conducted, wanting a closer look at the extent of the damage to feel out the alien’s abilities. 

“You and I both made certain of that.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione stopped banging against the door. It was useless. If what the creature said was true, then she wasn’t going to get out of this unscathed. 

_She’d just have to find another way out, then._

Hermione spun around, leveling the creature with the bravest look she could muster. There was nothing brave or strong about her emotions. They were messy and alive with hysteria, but she had to calm down.

Panicking would get her nowhere.

The creature was standing in the remains of the glass box, its eyes trained on hers. Hermione tried not to shrink underneath its scrutiny, wondering faintly if this was how the creature had felt when she’d been roaming over its body with her eyes.

“What have you done? How  _could_ you have done anything when in that cage?”

The creature cocked its head to one side, as if weighing whether to answer the question or not, before he stepped out of the glass box. The crunch of its bare feet stepping onto the glass made her wince.

“Now now, Dr. Granger, that would be telling.”

Her lips twisted into a grimace, hating the way its lips stretched into a delighted smile. It was fucking terrifying. 

“Why should I answer your questions? Why should I  _indulge_ your curiosity? You have no power here.”

Anger bloomed in her chest, toxic and acidic. It made her see red, it made her want to lunge at the monster and do something  _foul_.

Hermione bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood, in a pitiful attempt, she might add, to calm herself down.

 _It’s baiting me_.

“I beg to differ. You’re not setting one  _foot_  out of this facility without my say so,” Hermione said through gritted teeth, hating the way the creature began to purr. Its eyes roved over her, from the top of her head and down to her feet and back. It was invasive, oddly probing. It was as if it were looking for something. 

Hermione hoped it didn’t find what it was looking for.

“And what makes you think I could not have escaped already? That I am not here because I have  _elected_ to stay?”

All the breath rushed from her lungs, horror shooting through her insides at the thought. 

Then, the creature began to move, its steps slow and sinuous despite the loud crunch of glass sliding along the floor. Squaring her shoulders, Hermione tried not to let her fear show, eyes whirling about the room for something she could snatch to defend herself.

A shard of glass winked at her from her left, and Hermione didn’t wait. She sprung from her perch against the door, screaming when the creature was suddenly  _on_ her, its hand snatching her coat.

With a roll of her shoulders, she forced it off of her before the creature could get a stronger hold, grunting when there was a loud tearing, the sound like nails to a chalkboard. 

Hermione snatched the massive shard of glass and turned, pointing it out at the monster that now stood only a foot away, its massive height making her crane her neck to maintain a clear view of its face.

Her coat was in its grasp, and Hermione shuddered when it pressed the cloth nearer to its face, its eyes sealing shut to breathe in her scent from the fabric. 

“You smell just  _delightful_ , Dr. Granger.”

Nausea wrenched her stomach, bile burning up her esophagus at the guttural sound and the way its eyes snapped open to pierce her with a look of total hunger. Hermione’s grip on the glass tightened, the corners cutting into her palms. She hardly felt the sting, not when there was pure adrenaline rushing through her veins.

"What do you want?” Hermione snapped, taking a step back when the creature lifted its head away from the fabric, eyes never leaving her face. There was something shrewd about the look it gave her.  _Cruel_. As if it were toying with her, stringing her about like some puppet on display.

It made the teeth in Hermione’s mouth ache, her fear and anger coil like live eels in her stomach.

“ _Why_ are you here if you chose to be here?”

A high hissing sound rumbled from the creature’s throat, and Hermione stiffened, incensed. It was  _laughing_ at her. 

“Come now, what fun is there in giving you all the answers? You’re far brighter than this,  _love_.”

A chill swept through her, thoughts rushing a mile a minute. But no matter how hard she thought of this, of its intentions, it was like grasping at straws. She didn’t understand. 

None of this made sense. 

It was an alien from god knows where in the universe, and it  _spoke_ to her. In English, with a British accent no less—

“Still don’t understand? Would you like a hint?”

Gooseflesh rippled up her arms when the creature began to move toward her again, and Hermione lifted her weapon, pointing the shard of glass at him in the hopes that it’d stay away.

“Two human men have died. What is it that they have in common?”

For each step he took, Hermione took another, the corner of her eyes keeping an eye on where she moved, so as not to force herself into a corner. She’d seen enough bloody horror movies to not make that mistake.

_What did they have in common?_

Surprise hit her like a blow to her stomach. She wanted to be sick, to press her hand to her mouth to repress the nausea that overcame her, her lunch that afternoon threatening to climb up her esophagus and greet her shoes.

_Both of their skulls had been cracked open like an egg and their brains scrambled. Salvaged for something._

“Oh g-god, you—”

The creature only smiled, a wicked glint in its eyes. It looked pleased,  _thrilled_ at the horrified expression on her face.

“Their minds were of little note, but it was enough to give me the tools I required to learn your pitiful language. You cannot imagine my frustration at being able to delve into your mind what with the language barrier—”

Hermione limbs had locked, her mouth opening and closing both in horror and fascination. The creature had  _eaten_ their brains, quite literally, to speak their language. And now—

 _Now it will eat yours too_.

“Nonsense. I will do no such thing.”

Hermione was far from comforted by this fact. 

 _Wait_. Had the creature just replied  _directly_ to her thoughts?

“After all, I am here for  _you_.”

All thoughts of the monster melted away when the creature crept closer, and she began to move again, eyeing the way its body slid and slunk like that of a coiled snake, ready to sink its fangs into its prey. Her mind was thinking a mile a minute, unable to make sense of what it was even saying.

 _For her_? 

The creature was there for  _her?_ No, that couldn’t be true. That would mean that two men died because of her. That two lives were lost, their brains utterly  _scrambled_ like bloody soup for her.

“No,” Hermione denied, a sharp sting spreading over her palms when the glass cut into her palms. She was clutching the shard so hard her knuckles went white, but the cut on both of her palms,  _the potential infection,_  was the least of her worries. “You’re lying. You couldn’t possibly—”

“But I can. I  _am_.”

A scream ripped from her throat when the creature rushed her, moving so fast she couldn’t see its movements, and grabbed one of her wrists. It squeezed her hard enough to bruise, and Hermione cursed and kicked, dropping the shard from her shaking fingers from the pain.

“I will admit. I didn’t plan to play captor and captive for very long. It is rare for me to remain in such a state when I am used to taking what I want from inferior species.”

She kicked and clawed, her free hand raking it across its arm, shoulders, and chest. She was fighting with everything she had, but the creature wasn’t fazed by the blows, in fact, its eyes were glowing with mirth, a stupid smirk gracing its lips. 

“But your  _smell_ ,” it rumbled, the purr of its voice making the hairs in the back of her neck stand on end. 

_Oh god. No, No. No—_

_“_ It is mouthwatering, Dr. Granger. I simply had to find the source, to see for myself just what human possessed such a delectable scent.”

Then, the creature was lifting her up by her wrist, the pain in her joints shooting up and down her arm like a shock of electricity. She cried out, toes barely touching the ground as she tried to struggle but couldn’t find the leverage to do any damage.

“And to my surprise, I find a human girl and a  _researcher_ no less. How tempted I was to take you while you were tucked away in that little room, your little eyes fascinated by something as innocuous as my naked back. It would have been delightful to watch your eyes widen with fear as I tore that human male’s throat out before your eyes—”

Hermione flailed about, tears burning at the corners of her eyes from the agony. Her shoulder felt like it was about to be pulled out of its socket, but still, she refused to cry. She wouldn’t.

She wasn’t  _weak_ , damn it.

“But I refrained. I wanted to see what you’d  _do_ , Dr. Granger. The fascination in your eyes, the furious way you took notes of each painful detail that you could see, your  _knowledge:_ all of it had sealed your fate.”

Abruptly, the creature released her wrist and Hermione fell back with a loud cry, her back hitting the ground so hard that her teeth rattled in her mouth. The creature slinked over her, and Hermione couldn’t move, could scarcely breathe from the agony shooting up her back and the red eyes staring into her eyes.

“You wanted to know what made me  _tick_ , to understand my capabilities, to see for yourself just what I can do.”

The creature’s mouth parted into a wide grin, teeth gleaming beneath the lights above their heads. It pressed closer, until its forehead was against hers, the chill of its skin enough to spur her into action.

Her hands came to claw out its eyes, her feet kicking at its shins, squirming and punching at its body. The monster blocked her kick when she aimed it at the wrinkled flesh between its thighs, wanting—no,  _needing_ —to see if it would end in the same result as it would a human male.

The high-pitched laughter that escaped its throat was enough to make her snarl, to make her desperate, but the creature, as if being done with the theatrics, snatched her flailing hands in one of his own and slammed them above her head.

The bones in her wrist protested, a twinge of agony forcing a pained whimper from her throat. 

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—_

“Let me show you,  _Hermione_ , just what it is that I can do.”

Then, there was a shift, and the question sitting on her tongue, the one that urged her to demand how it knew her  _name_ , fell away. Lost to the wind when there was a faint sound, one that Hermione could have almost missed had she not been hyperaware of every twitch the creature made above her. 

Its body began to contort, to ripple like millions of droplets on a placid lake. It was both fascinating and horrifying to watch, to see how its teeth began to recede into its mouth, how the slits of its pupils rounded into that of a human’s. It was transforming, becoming something else— _someone else._

She was at a loss for words, frozen by both her mute terror and fascination, as hair began to grow from atop its head, the bald head replaced by a head of soft waves of dark hair. A nose began to grow from the flat part of its face, sharp and angled. 

The rippling didn’t stop until it was a human face staring back at her. One that Hermione had never seen before but would  _never_ forget. 

Its eyes were still red, still a malignant shade of cruel, but it didn’t matter now. The monster had become the most beautiful human being she’d ever set her eyes on. It was as if the monster had taken the best features from a human male and took it for his own.

A hand pressed against her throat, human and  _warm_ , unlike the cold flesh that had touched her forehead, and Hermione swallowed, unable to speak when its fingers dug into the skin. 

“At a loss for words?” The creature asked, a teasing note in its voice that made her stomach clench. It no longer spoke with a high and reedy tone, but masculine drawl. It was as rich as sin, and Hermione wanted to shrink into the floor and disappear.

_This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening—_

“Oh, but it is. I am just like  _you_ ,Hermione. I can be anything if I wished it, could lift from your very mind the faces you’ve seen in the past and become  _them_.”

Hermione wanted to vomit, eyes unable to tear away from the creature’s when those, too, began to change. Darkened. 

The creature spoke on as if it didn’t mind that Hermione had yet to say a thing.

“You’ve been a wonderful host, Hermione. But I think I’ve overstayed my welcome in this facility, don’t you agree?” 

Hermione swallowed through the lump in her throat, a wheeze escaping her when its fingers squeezed her throat, blocking her airways. It could strangle her if it wished. Snap her neck, if it so desired. The possibilities were limitless. Hermione shook her head furiously, in spite of that. Nothing would make her happier than to see the creature leave.

“But of course, I must take you with me. We have great need of a human with your skillset.”

 _No_.

Its fingers tightened, and black began to creep over her vision, specks of color dancing along his face. She squirmed beneath him, moving to dislodge the hand curling over her neck while his thumb slowly trailed over her pulsing carotid artery.

Panic bloomed in her stomach at the look of malicious glee in its eyes, at the way its face glowed with satisfaction at her weak squirming.

“I cannot simply let you go. You know  _far_ too much about me,  _Hermione_.”

The hand pressed onto the sides of her neck, careful not to dig into her trachea and snap her neck, and then—

She was floating, sailing through murky depths, unable to hold onto what remained of her consciousness no matter how hard her mind  _screamed_ for her to stay awake. 

She fell, and fell, and  _fell_ —

Its laughter, the last thing she heard before she was swallowed by darkness.


End file.
